Salazar
by Nachocheez0
Summary: AU: What if the Dark Lord chose not to kill young Harry, but to raise him? On that fateful Halloween night three Potters died...but a Slytherin was born.


ï»¿ Gillian Normal Gillian 243 525 2005-04-28T00:28:00Z 2005-11-19T22:55:00Z 7 4737 22267 556 163 33163 9.2720

**A/N: Hi everyone. For those of you who have already read this, I'd advise reading it again. Many changes have been made. I'll try to update more often, but school is…is…there just isn't a word that can describe the aggravation that AP classes cause…Anyways I had a C on my quarter report and my mom's flipping out, even though it's actually a B because it AP, but she doesn't listen. Anyways you can stop listening to me babble ands read the story, well go on read the story damn you! What? What? Why aren't you reading the story why you reading this? You're still reading this? Well I can talk longer then you can listen…no I can't. For further yapping skip the story and go to the bottom of this page! Wait…**

* * *

**Prologue: Trick or Treat **

It was a crisp Halloween night in the tiny village of Godric's Hallow. Near the center of the peaceful village, a majestic stone mansion stood regally, casting shadows over the humble houses that neighbored it. Inside the residence, also commonly referred to as the Lion's Den, a handsome family sat cuddled up on a plush red couch enjoying the soothing warmth of the glowing fire.

A tall man with messy black hair watched the flames, entirely content with his beautiful wife's head resting on his shoulder. James Potter prank extraordinaire mischievously snuck a glance at the love of his life, and chuckled. To his surprise his near-neurotic wife had already dozed off in the warmth of the fire, her breathing slow and steady.

After a few moments of contemplating the Pros and Cons of giving the volatile redhead a wet-wily, he decided he'd rather not be cursed by his wife and shifted his gaze to the figure on his lap. Comfortably leaning against the father's stomach sat a slightly chubby baby, his famous green eyes peacefully closed.

"_Why can't all Halloweens be like this?"_ James Potter thought longingly as he let his eyelids finally drop in content.

**DING DONG**

The doorbell's ring echoed throughout the enormous house eerily. His eyes snapped open, the almond brown orbs glinting in annoyance. With a sigh James carefully maneuvered off the couch, being extra cautious not to wake his slumbering family.

"Sirius, why now?" he whispered to himself thoroughly exasperated.

Even though his loyal secret-keeper had surely come to wish him a happy Halloween, he was still rather irritated from having to leave his luxurious spot on the couch. As he checked a nearby clock, he walked briskly towards the entrance to his home (that was several rooms away) he wondered idly what the hell his friend was doing over here so late.

"_He can't seriously expect me to have a few bottles of fire whiskey can he? I mean it **is** Halloween, but I'm not a kid anymore." _James wondered to himself. In fact it wouldn't surprise him in the least to see Sirius with several bottles of alcoholic beverages in his hands, ready to get wasted and repeat what happened last Halloween…

James suppressed a shudder at the memory. Although the dark-haired Auror had to admit to himself, that he had indeed missed his faithful friend, and couldn't help but walk just a tad faster in anticipation.

**DING DONG**

The doorbell rang again unleashing vibrations that buzzed in James' ear. "Don't wet your pants mate!" James joked quietly as he opened the wooden door. A blinding green light flashed throughout the village, before an ominous voice hissed merrily—

"_Trick or Treat James."_

* * *

Lily Potter's eyes snapped open, gleaming with vigilance. In a flash she had moved to one of the many wardrobes in her house and pulled out a silver silk-like sheet from the closet. She carefully laid the invisibility cloak over her sleeping child and preceded to quickly withdrawing her polished wand and murmured a quiet incantation under her breath. 

After a few moments she could feel a freezing liquid-like substance dripping down her body. When the frosty sensation subsided she glanced at herself and was satisfied to see that she was sufficiently camouflaged, a mere step below perfect invisibility.

Now that she felt moderately secure, she softly called out "James?" There was no answer. She glanced at the spot where her son was sleeping and quickly cast several more charms for his own protection. After she felt he was completely safe from any Death Eater she stealthily walked towards the entrance, taking extra precautions to move soundlessly. She came to the door of the main hallway and stepped through it.

The young mother froze in utmost dread. Standing only two yards away from her was Lord Voldemort himself observing a painting on the wall. The mighty magician was an intimidating sight to say the least. He was adorned with a majestic hooded black cloak that was decorated with intricate patterns of crimson swords and serpents that seemed to mold into one another. Inside the cloak past the shining silver chain holding it loosely together was a gleaming black breastplate. It was lined with precious rubies that formed the same horrifying patterns that marked his robes, however encircled in the whirlwind of blades and boas the dark mark stood proud, a symbol of death that marked only the fabled reaper's closest allies.

"Ah, _sssoooo_ this is the child. Wherever could he be?" The Dark Lord questioned himself while observing a gold-framed family portrait that decorated the ginger walls. Lily didn't breath, she didn't move. She was facing the Dark Lord's back, she was hoping, praying that he wouldn't notice her.

"…Lily, how rude, I asked you a question?" the Dark Lord stated, still facing away from Lily.

The fiery young auror didn't move or speak, panic locked her legs and terror gripped her lungs. The Dark Lord turned around leisurely his cloak twirling around dramatically, casting a soft gust on Lily. Only his glowing eyes could be seen from the shadows of his hood, the eyes that nightmares were made of…were focused on the partially invisible redhead. They were eyes that could see right through a person, for intense hatred could annihilate souls of the purest nature.

"I will have the child one way or another Lily, he is mine by right." He whispered in an icy tone that sent shivers of dread up her spine.

Despite her fear those words affected Lily more deeply then anything she had ever experienced. She almost instantly regained her strength and the passionate fire returned to her green eyes. She brandished her delicate wand before hissing in utmost hate, "_No one shall take that child from me."_

A delicate aura of power began to resonate around her as she began chanting various incantations, while performing flawlessly intricate wand maneuvers.

In mere seconds a dim violet ball of light began to from an inch away from the Potter matriarch's wand tip. The tiny protons of light gathered and centered into a glorious sphere that seemed to send wave after wave of magnanimity. The _pulse_ of the spell gave hope to the impossible, courage to the cowardly, and fear to those who beheld its fury.

The Dark Lord stood where he was, his demonic eyes narrowed, gleaming with unhidden admiration.

"Do _you _mean to kill me Lily? Do you believe yourself to be of Dumbledore's dueling caliber?" Lord Voldemort said in amusement a rich chuckle reverberated around hall.

For a single moment a flicker of doubt crossed her mind and almost instantly the orb of purple radiance began to deplete radically. In fear of losing more of the gathered energy she cast it towards the Dark Lord, the shock of the blast sent a subtle crack up her wand and an enormous throb in her wand arm, however the spell was successful. The globe of light spiraled at incredible speed into the Dark Lord's hood, directly impacting Voldemort in his unguarded face. The impact shattered the wooden floors, sending thick layers of dusty smoke into the air.

She waited as the smoke cleared panting for the air that she needed so desperately after the tremendously powerful light spell she had used. She knew she hadn't done it as flawlessly as Dumbledore could, but Voldemort had couldn't have known she had learned the potent charm under Dumbledore's tutelage.

The last of the smoke cleared and her eyes widened in immeasurable terror. Before her stood the face of a 17 year old Tom Riddle, smirking back at her. "_Tsk, Tsk, Tsk, Lily. Now that you know my dirty little secret I can't allow you to live…too bad."_ He hissed vehemently as waves of magic seemed flowed off of him.

_You shall pay the price for removing the snake's fangs…however fangs can be re-grown you foolish girl. _

* * *

_Carnage... There was no other word for it. If one considered other words…massacre, bloodbath, butchery, slaughter, none of those words could express what the once serene house had become. The mansion-like building was now scattered rubble…a hideous red stained everything…tremendous magical energies still crackled in the cool night air. However a single rogue flooing-fireplace stood perfectly erect as if it alone had survived the annihilation, its emerald green fire still crackling hauntingly. And on its polished mantle the ominous words, "onto your old blood coffers…" was scribbled flawlessly in a scarlet liquid… _

An enormous man gazed down from the moonlit sky in horror, at what once was James and Lily Potter's home. The giant of a man landed his flying motorcycle roughly on the ground. He clumsily stumbled off the motorcycle, his eyes unable to leave the debris of the house, and in seven enormous strides; he was standing before the intact fireplace…

In a state of shock Hagrid slowly stuck his shaking hand into his coat pocket and withdrew a sparkling metallic phoenix, his beetle-black eyes unable to stop staring in horror at the crimson words. He gently stroked the gold amulet, as he would a helpless puppy with his gloved thumb and it immediately glowed a sizzling red (but only gave off a comforting heat.)

The figurine's wings slowly twisted skywards until they touched one another forming an enclosed circle. Then a tiny ball of light formed in the void's center and flattened itself out, completely engulfing the hollow between the wings. The simple white light manipulated its spectrum to show a picture of an elderly man with twinkling blue eyes and a gentle smile.

Albus Dumbledore's smile instantaneously dissipated at seeing Hagrid's tearful face.

"What's wrong Hagrid?" The sleepy face of Dumbledore asked, his voice full of concern.

The half-giant choked down a sob and answered "Th-The Potter's Dumbledore!" he sobbed. Fresh marble-sized tears flowing down his face.

An odd emptiness overtook Dumbledore's persona, as he immediately comprehended what Hagrid meant. "I'll be there momentarily." The headmaster of Hogwarts confirmed, taking off his nightcap before the amulets magical link closed.

As Dumbledore's face disappeared, Hagrid lost his remaining strength and fell to his knees, his entire body trembling. The Potters…were good people, fantastic people. Never biased, never discourteous…and as if it had been he who died instead of the happy family, memories of their lives flashed before his eyes.

He recalled how he had given poor James a busted clavicle in his second year from patting him on the shoulder; He remembered how he had been a guest of honor at James and Lily's wedding. He had been in that muggle hospital's waiting room when Harry was born. He had been watching when little Harry laid curious eyes on his first birthday cake. He was there for-

Hagrid's thoughts were interrupted as Albus Dumbledore and several order members materialized with numerous small cracks. Dumbledore's eyes briefly examined the turmoil before shifting his full attention to the fireplace.

He calmly approached the emerald blaze and read the words aloud.

"**_Onto your old blood coffers…"_**

The aged warlock examined the fireplace for several moments, before his blue eyes hardened in fearless determination, the twinkle of hope in his eyes was shining like none of the Order had ever witnessed before. His aura flared a magnificent lilac as he withdrew his wand and headed straight for the fireplace intending to enter the snake's den and confront Voldemort one last time.

_There were may things worse then death, and he would show Dumbledore everyone of them. _

However when the wizard's toe was only inches away form the fire, the flame extinguished itself immediately and a malicious chuckle echoed from the fireplace that unnerved the numerous order members' spines.

The ruby letters that stained the fireplace began to rearrange themselves until they formed the mocking question.

_**Bold for your foes…no old coot?**_

Then the letters coiled and molded in to the hieroglyph of a hissing serpent. The image directed a final venomous hiss at Dumbledore, before it crumpled and died along with the fireplace.

The affect that the simple action had on the Order was phenomenal. Dumbledore's aura immediately dissipated and his grip on his wand loosened. The Order's shoulders all sunk and their heads fell.

"Search the debris.", the old wizard said simply.

After a few minutes of searching Hagrid had tossed away a torched beam of wood and gasped. Nearly everyone present recognized the nearly unchanged messy black-hair of the great auror they once new.

The giant of a man removed his blanket-sized coat and carefully draped it over his favorite Hogwarts alumni. As Hagrid slowly began removing debris again with the rest of the order, he prayed to any and all of the higher powers that the mother and her son escaped; unfortunately his day only got worse.

* * *

Sometime later, away in an enormous room, furnished in red and gold, an ancient man cleared his throat politely, effectively silencing the chattering crowd, standing before him. The entire room fell silent as they laid eyes on their exhausted leader. 

The elderly man, who was better known as _The Great Albus Dumbledore,_ stood up shakily, looking tired and forlorn. He cleared his throat once more before speaking.

"Myself and a number of other Order members have just observed something truly terrible, and the news that I will share with you will be overwhelming." Dumbledore said in very tired voice, but as he began his next sentence a firm resolve and clear note of fury was present. "However instead of giving in to the Dark Lord's malevolent tactics, we should instead harden our resolution and stop the reign of terror that he has swept Britain in to!" he finished strongly.

Many of the Order members had their eyes set in determination and some even hit the enormous table yelling "That bastard will pay!" and "snake-face is finished!"

Dumbledore waited for the room to become silent again before continuing, "At precisely 2:14 AM Hagrid contacted me with most terrible news, the Potter's are dead; all of them…murdered by the Dark Lord…now I'm afraid the Longbottom boy is the world's only hope." He informed the quiet room in a despairing tone."

If someone had dropped a pin, every person in the entire room would have heard it drop. The shocked silence lasted for a few seconds, before sniffs and sobs filled the room.

"Minerva, please go and fetch young Neville, he is without a doubt Voldemort's next target." He asked the woman standing to his right softly.

"Yes, of course." She responded with an audible sniff before grabbing some floo powder and scurrying off to the fireplace.

Albus Dumbledore sat down defeated and buried his face in his hands. "_Harry…"_

* * *

Unknown to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, exactly 263.8 miles away in a dark palace, the cruelest Dark Lord the world had ever seen sat in a plush armchair dangling a piece of string above a giggling green eyed toddler. 

Lord Voldemort ran his finger over the baby's flawless forehead, as he wondered what he should name his newly appointed heir.

As he pondered on a name he found himself gazing in to the infant's eyes. While he gazed in to the pools of Avada Kedavra-green, a particular portrait briefly flashed in his mind, and a half smirk half smile appeared.

"_Your name shall be Salazar Slytherin my little incarnate… And as for me… you may call_ _me father."_

* * *

**Chapter 1: Limbs are a Luxury**

Mars blazed magnificently in the dark sky. The rich blood-red light poured down upon the nightmarish land of Malavre, creating a truly haunting image.

However, a most unusual silence hovered over the rich land, and this was far more unnerving than the eerie spectacle of Mars. For tonight there were no ghostly whispers, no far-off sobbing, _not even a single_ blood-curdling scream.

If one didn't know better, it would appear to be a peaceful and relaxing night…but most knew better. For those who didn't, well they had a very small chance of knowing anything by morning.

Somewhere within countless cliffs and forests of Malavre, a handsome youth no older than eight, weaved expertly through the thick forests. The boy soundlessly passed the crunchy terrain and thousands of stray branches. His sharp emerald eyes gleaming like a predator's, in the shadows of the night.

_The child's name was Salazar Slytherin, and he was the Dark Lord's chosen heir._

The boy pulled his cloak tightly around him, fighting off the bitter wind. It had been a long miserable walk through the dangerous forest. "_But"_ he thought with a pleased smirk that would not leave his face "_I succeeded." _

And with that thought, Salazar lightly grasped the leather sash strung to his waist, confirming that the precious flowery herb was still nestled safely within the small bag. His father would undoubtedly be pleased once he returned to the castle. He had gone through hell and back to get the _Ohamaire. An angry nymph, a hungry vampire, and a bloody werewolf with a thorn stuck in its paw… _what else could go wrong?

While he expertly weaved through the thick trees of the forest, he briefly caught an eerie shadow swiftly move in the corner of his eye.

Now, instead of acting like a foolish child and running for his life in any direction, perhaps even towards the unknown creature, he stopped calmly, and listened for the perpetrator. The intense silence was deafening. His _own_ heartbeat seemed to echo throughout the woods, alerting any hungry wildlife on where to find their meal.

_It wasn't a vampire, vampires didn't move like that, if it were a werewolf he would be able to hear a low growling it couldn't have been a harpy, or a seductress…_

Nothing moved, nothing made a sound, but Salazar knew that _something_ was there. And that _something_ probably had a tremendously healthy appetite.

Very, very slowly the boy began to reach for the sickle attached to a delicate silver chain hanging around his neck. To others it was simply wizarding currency, but to him it was a powerful "_Notice-Me-Not"_ charm. He nervously glanced, at where he estimated the shadow had previously moved.

His hand had barely risen for the coin, before the eminent rush of wind and the rustle of grass, was heard from behind him.

"_Too late."_ The young boy realized, as he stiffened in terror. The shadowy beast effortlessly leapt above the trees, while unleashing a bone-chilling shriek, preparing to mercilessly pounce its helpless prey with deadly precision.

* * *

Not far away, high upon one of the many cliffs of Malavre, a colossal dark palace loomed over the endless woods. Any creatures that beheld the luxurious spectacle, gazed at the palace in both awe and terror.

Past the walls, through the endless paved paths, within the highest room, of the tallest tower. A youthful man with crimson eyes stood by the window, gazing icily upward.

The dark mage stared intently through the large windows of his plush green room. Gazing unflinchingly at the horrific show of Mars in all of its glory, truly earning its right as the _Blood Omen_.

The mage was obviously deep in thought, given that his calculating eyes were intensely studying the apocalyptic display.

"_A blood omen."_ Lord Voldemort knew."…_But what does it mean…and who is it meant for?"_

As he looked at the hundreds of constellations equilaterally octagonal to mars (a feat that many would need spare parchment and a wealth of tools and gadgets) there were many of course, but one caught his attention. It was the constellation _Leo_, which was perpendicularly congruent to _Scorpio._

He knew that Scorpio was a beast, which had slain the powerful warlock Orion thousands of years ago. It represented every monster that could and _would_ one day kill a powerful wizard.

"_And 'Leo', what does that signify"_ He wondered vaguely.

The Dark Lord than noticeably became rigid, and a dark shadow passed over his face.

'_Nagini, how long has Salazar been gone?' _he questioned his serpentine companion forebodingly.

The obsidian snake, which was comfortably curled up by the fireplace, placed her narrow amber eyes on her master.

Silently watching him, she languidly stuck out her forked tongue (which was actually the size of a fork) in to the air, tasting for her serpent-child's dangling molecules.

'_He left 5,491 seconds ago.'_ She snapped smartly, a curious gleam reflecting in her eyes. '_Why' _the snake asked her master.

The Dark Lord was tempted to roll his eyes at his companion. His snake had a love of talking directly _and yet_ cryptically, which was without doubt the most annoying combination snakes had discovered thus far…and snakes were clever creatures.

_But Lord Voldemort was no ordinary Joe; he was the most powerful Dark Lord of the millennium. He, who had discovered the alchemical equation of youth. He, who had conquered the unconquerable. He, being Lord Voldemort, sure as hell new those 5,491 seconds was approximately ninety-one minutes and thirty-one seconds._

"It shouldn't have taken this long…" he murmured to himself, returning his gaze to the sky, reflecting his thoughts on the placement of the cosmos.

'_Go search for my serpent-child Nagini.'_ He ordered his most loyal friend sternly.

The said ebony-black snake somehow managed to hiss under her breath, as she began slither out of the well-furnished room, entering in to the grand corridor. Needless to say snakes did not enjoy moving.

"_Humans are lucky enough to have two legs and yet they order us snakes, with nothing but are bellies and backs to travel miles for them."_ She thought sarcastically.

'_Oh and Nagini?'_ He hissed to her, from behind his back, never turning away from the spectacle of the sky.

'_I'd **run** away from those mongooses, I hear they kill snakes.'_ Lord Voldemort said in a monotone voice.

The peeved serpent began to slither away again, muttering under her breath. Hissing, how if her life-long friend were any funnier--she just might eat him.

'_Besides mongooses are the least of my worries.'_

* * *

Salazar screwed his eyes shut, as the beast sped through the air, diving like a missile targeted straight for him. 

The earsplitting impact caused the forest floor tremble and the enormous trees to shake.

Salazar had heard the thunderous impact, he could taste his own blood, he could smell the very foulness of the beast…but he felt nothing. There was no pain, no agony…nothing, except a small ache in the back of his head.

Salazar hoped that a miracle had happened, that a miracle would allow him grow old, and that a miracle had saved his life.

…_Salazar Slytherin would never believe in miracles again._

As his emerald eyes snapped open, he realized that he had somehow fallen on to his back, _but infinitely more important_, there was a monster looming over him on all fours, in all its nauseating glory.

A beast that—that Salazar vaguely recognized.

He laid there in momentary puzzlement, trying to remember where he had seen this beast before. It was a huge green monster, standing at least ten feet tall and bulging with wiry green muscle. Its body somehow reminded him of an oversized ape, _except_ for its most noticeable feature of course. It had huge spider-like hands that could effortlessly curl around the thickest of trees.

Its body was hairless, showing off its smooth green skin and wiry muscle. However the monster's face was completely covered with a thick shaggy-black mane; only its glowing orange eyes and two long white tusks penetrated the rat's nest of a mane.

"_No wonder the land was so quiet this night. Even the mightiest creatures paled in comparison to this-" _Salazar's eyes widened, and all color drained form his face, as he recalled his father telling him about one of Malavre's many dangers in a flash.

* * *

"**Salazar, did you know that one of the most powerful magical entities, live right here in our back yard?" the father asked his young son, who was perched up on his lap, in a hushed tone. **

**Without waiting for an answer, the Dark Lord continued on with his bedtime story. **"**The kluh is a monster that only inhabits our "backyard" and its physical abilities are seemingly endless. Imagine for a moment Salazar**— **encountering a beast that could leap one hundred feet in to the air, and tear stone apart as though it were paper." His father whispered, his eyes glowing in a way the child had never seen before.**

"**Imagine a creature six meters tall and weighing half a ton, that could prowl the crunchy forest terrain, without even alerting a fly." He continued on, in a mystic teller-of-tales voice.**

"**A fiend with tusks the size of a man, each one pumped with gallons upon gallons of venom. Just a mere drop of the deadly substance, would have its prey trapped in a happy stupor for days." He persisted, the young child's eyes wide with amazement.**

"**A monstrosity capable of killing the greatest wizard of the millennium—Yes, Merlin himself fell to these creatures." He finished, crimson eyes lost in memories of the past.**

* * *

" _I'm going to die, just as Merlin died…"_ the young boy concluded hopelessly. 

The baby Kluh grew tired of thinking with its pebble-sized brain, and faster than Salazar could comprehend pinned him to the ground with its spider-like hands. Both his chest and his right arm were easily held to the ground with a single gnarled hand.

Time slowed for Salazar; as he watched the Kluh raise its head to the sky, before letting loose a savage shriek. He watched in preeminent horror, as the beasts bulky arm muscles slowly contracted.

He felt a strange hollowness, as his bone, muscle, and skin were torn away under overwhelming pressure.

He watched indifferently, as the Kluh carelessly threw his freshly decapitated right arm in to the depths of the darkness. However, his sensation died for only but a second.

As feeling returned to him, he did something he had never done before, _it was the only thing he could do…_

…_He screamed._

* * *

**A/N: Yes! I didn't see anything horribly wrong with the first chapter so very few changes were made. I've had the bulk of the next chapter finished FOREVER (nearly 8000 words total), however because I haven't written for a while I still have to chip and pick away at the words until it's to my satisfaction. I actually need a beta (my old one won't respond to my emails, yet she can send me thousands of chain letters…) so please review and I can respond to any questions and comments…Hopefully nothing to bad. Did you catch some oddities in this chapter and prologue? I hope so. I put so many unique threads of plot in this chapter that it would make J.K. proud. Please review and read the next chapter!**


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